whispers of the night
by like-lions
Summary: spoilers for 1x19. bay finds out the worst news of her life on prom night, and when things seem like they can't get any worse, she meets a boy that proves that life exists after heartbreak. friendship/eventual romance bay/oc & eventual friendship bemmet.
1. whispers of the night

_**a/n:**__ oh here we go again. another story courtesy of like-lions? nonsense. after the incredible reaction to my last fic, "staring at an empty room," i decided to write another story. it was just a matter of timing and inspiration. and, oh my, i got some incredible inspiration after last night's episode of "switched." this is another bay-centric piece, but this is: surprise! not bay/emmett. sorry, ya'll, but i'm pretty pissed about emmett's actions, and i am not too keen on forgiving and forgetting after a betrayal like this. so this is a bay/oc story. i know, i know: a) kaylah, this author's note is too long and b) i hate oc fics! well, a) yes, i'm aware of the length of this author's note, and b) maybe this story will change your mind. so without further ado, i give you: "whispers of the night."_

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><p><em>something's bound to happen<em>

_i can hear it in the __**whispers of the night**_

_warn the others madness_

_finds us drifting in the calm of tidal eyes_

_**like lions**__—the queen killing kings_

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><p><em><strong>whispers of the night, <strong>__or ohmygod my feels can't even handle this rn_

Her mom was right. She told her to wear comfortable shoes to prom, or at least pack a set of flats in her purse in case of emergencies. But no, her cell phone, eye shadow and lip gloss were obviously much more important than the pair of flats that she so desperately needed at the moment. She hated when her mom was right. She hated when her mom was right and she definitely hated when she was wrong.

(no guys i swear he's the one for me)

What a load of crap. Looking back she realized that the world had given her a plenty of cosmic signs that she was never meant to be with him – that no matter how hard she tried, their relationship wouldn't work out. No amount of sign language or speech therapy could fix what had just happened.

(i trusted him i trusted him why did i do that)

Bay Kennish was never one to let her guard down. She was notorious for holding grudges and keeping people out of her head.

(out of her heart)

But she let him in and this is where it got her. Now she was stumbling around the deserted hallways of Buckner Hall trying to find the exit. Why was it this hard? She's done it a million times before, right? But she's drunk off her ass and she can barely distinguish her left from her right.

She never liked drinking. It made her feel dirty and bloated and gross. She swore that she wouldn't drink on prom night – she wanted to look nice in her dress.

(for him)

But now drops of whatever the hell she drank are dripping down the baby blue chiffon fabric and she couldn't care less. She's sloppy and a mess and all she wants to do is go home.

(where the hell are the exits)

She cries – really cries, ugly cries and she's ashamed of herself for it. She's Bay Kennish, she doesn't let this happen, she doesn't let people get to her like this. But she just got the worst news of her life (apart from the switch that got her into this mess in the first place) and she doesn't care about her appearance or how people will perceive her. She just wants to go home.

(c'mon exits c'mon c'mon)

The worst part is that she didn't find out until now. That she had to find out this way, on this night, in this place. She was caught off guard.

(unguarded unprotected)

And she just wants to turn back time, to make things right. The fact that he wasn't man enough to tell her himself just strengthened the blow. She had to find out from little miss perfect Daphne – she had to be pulled off the dance floor and get the bad news broken to her from her long lost "sister." It wasn't even the news that was the worst part. It was the pity. Bad news she could handle but not pity, anything but that.

When she was told the news, she looked around the room aimlessly, eyes scanning everyone. It suddenly felt like everyone was staring at her and she felt her knees buckle beneath her. Then she saw him, his blue green eyes full of remorse and shame and she broke into a million pieces. Because now she didn't just feel sorry for herself, she felt sorry for both of them.

(nothing can fix it nothing can change it)

She couldn't stand looking at him, or Daphne, or Wilke or even Toby dancing across the room. Most of all she couldn't stand looking at Simone, laughing happily with her friends near the stage. So she did what she does best and ran. Ran to the bathroom grabbing a red plastic cup full of whatever that burnout kid was divvying out. She choked it down in sloppy gulps and ran into the girl's room, locking the door behind her.

She checked the stalls to make sure she was alone and then she let it out. She fell onto the linoleum floor, surely staining the delicate fabric of her dress and let out the ugliest, sloppiest, most horrific cry she had ever cried.

She sat there a while, wallowing in her misery until she decided she had to get out of there. She had to get out of the school before anyone came looking for her trying to "console" her. She definitely needed to get out of there before Mr. Blue-Green Eyes took a sip of what the burnout was serving and got up the nerve to talk to her. She walked – rather ran – out of the girls' room and now she's here, running.

(per usual)

She finally reaches the main exit leading to the parking lot and notices the big bowl of students' car keys on the table. Damn school, always looking to "protect" its students. She digs her hand into the bowl until she finds what looked like her key and she stumbles out of the school and into the parking lot.

She hears someone call after her.

(shit)

And she picks up the pace, now running clumsily to her car. She tries to unlock the door to no avail and now she's crying – sobbing – at her situation. The voice behind her keeps calling and she keeps crying.

"Hey!" the voice calls, nervousness evident in the tone. "Hey! Don't get in that car!"

She wipes her face – she doesn't want anyone to see her like this. She checks herself in the mirror and to her horror sees that she smudged her mascara across her face. She collapses to her knees for the second time of the night and she continues to cry.

The voice disappears and now all she hears are footsteps getting closer and closer to her.

"Hey, Bay," the voice says, and she looks up to meet her fate. "It's me, Jesse, from your third period."

Out of all of the people she had to see tonight, it _would_ be Mr. Jesse Magnabosco, resident dork of Buckner Hall. With messy hair and thick rimmed glasses, he was the epitome of nerd – apart from the stellar grade point average.

And here they were, her in a fancy dress covered with dirt, grime and alcohol and him in a tuxedo that was far too dressy for the occasion.

"Are you okay?" he asks, holding out a hand. She reluctantly reaches for it and misses, grabbing him instead by the collar.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there," he said, moving her hand to his and pulling her to her feet. She was weak and tired and drunk and he needed to prop her up with both arms to keep her standing. "Yeah, you definitely shouldn't be driving tonight."

She can't tell if it's because she's drunk or vulnerable or something entirely unrelated, but suddenly he's incredibly attractive to her. His dark, dark brown hair mirrors hers, and his grey eyes remind her of polished steel. Although he's a bit overdressed for the occasion (and she's pretty sure he doesn't have a date to prom), his tux hugs his body just so and she can't help but want to feel his shoulders and torso and abs and everything.

"You know," she says with slurred speech. "You're pretty cute." He smiles and begins to walk her away from her car.

"Damn," he says with a sigh. "If I had known it only took you getting loaded to think that about me..." In hindsight, his voice says he's joking, but in her current inebriated state she takes this as an in.

He stops walking with her – virtually carrying her – and grabs the keys out of her hand. "These are _my_ keys," he says with a smile. "Couldn't let you get away with these, right?" He opens his backseat door and leans her into it, careful to watch her head.

She likes the feeling of the cool leather interior behind her head and pulls him into the backseat with her.

"No," she says, her voice somber and choking back sobs. "I'm serious. You're gorgeous. Seriously." Her eyes are dark and wet with tears and suddenly the weight of the evening hits her again. She convinces herself that the emotions she's feeling need to go away as soon as possible, so she redirects them.

She pulls him in, arms wrapped firmly around his neck, and kisses him, hard. His mind says no, she's not in the right state of mind to do this, but his body says that it won't be long before there is no turning back.

And her mind tells her that she was going to do this with Emmett, this very night, before she found out the truth. That experience has taught her to save herself for the one. But she's tired of waiting, and her body says full speed ahead.


	2. i am seeing stars

_**a/n:**__ thanks for the response to the last chapter. please accept this second chapter as a token of my gratitude._

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><p><em>he holds me in his big arms<em>

_drunk and **i am seeing stars**_

_this is all i think of_

_**video games**__—lana del ray_

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><p>Her eyes flutter open and she sees an unfamiliar ceiling fan rotating softly above her. She lifts up her head slightly to examine her surroundings. The room is painted stark white and for a moment she has to check her arms for I.V.'s.<p>

(good no hospital visits)

She continues to look around the room for clues of her current location, because she can't remember a thing about the night before and she's starting to get nervous. She notices the hockey trophies that line the walls of the strange room and it starts coming back to her.

(hockey hockey who plays hockey)

It isn't soon before she looks at the bedside table and notices a picture of a boy and his mom and...

(oh my god it's jesse)

Her eyes shoot to the floor and she sees her clothes riddled around the room. From her shoes to her tights to her dress, all of her clothes are on the floor and now she's in panic mode. No one next to her in the bed – good sign. She checks underneath the blankets for any signs of sexual misconduct – nope, she has, albeit unfamiliar, clothes on.

She steps out of the bed and is suddenly hit by a massive migraine. She leans on the bed for balance but misses and falls to the floor.

(shit shit shit shit shit)

She tries to hurry and collect herself before anyone – or any parents – in the house wise up and notice her. She gets on her knees to gather her clothes up in her arms, and upon standing up she notices that she is no longer alone.

"Good morning, starshine," Jesse says, still dressed in his suit, "The earth says hello." He smiles a mischievous grin and she blushes, because although she's wearing clothes they only consist of an oversized t-shirt and a pair of old basketball shorts. He can tell she's at a loss for words, so he goes on.

"Now you probably have a few questions," he goes on to say. "Where am I? What happened last night? Who dressed me in these clothes? What is the meaning of life? And I can answer three of the four of those questions if you'd follow me to the kitchen."

He gestures out the door and she nervously pulls the shirt down, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "You know," he says. "How about you get dressed and come down when you're ready."

He begins to walk out of the door when he turns back and says, "And don't try to climb out of the window. My dad child-proofed the damn thing." Bay giggles as he leaves for good, closing the door behind him.

(since when does she do that)

She throws her clothes on in a hurry, frowning at the stains lining her once crisp, clean chiffon dress. After a few minutes of scrubbing the stains out, she retires in vain, deciding to deal with a more realistic issue, mainly her hair. The night before she had worn it down as usual, but after sleeping – and crying, apparently – all over it, she decided it best to just pull it up into a ponytail. She wipes her face clean of the makeup and smearing from the night before and checks herself in the mirror.

(not the best but it'll have to do)

Knowing that it's time to face the music, she walks out of the room, taking one last look around. The space is clean and neat, looking professional on ¾'s of the walls. But it's the last wall – the out of place, teenage, dare she say, "immature" one – that captures her heart. Covered with hockey wallpaper and featured shelves full of trophies and pictures, the wall shows a side of Jesse that Bay never knew – or never bothered to know – before.

(he doesn't play hockey – right?)

She looks at the pictures and notices a frame holding a picture of a young Jesse and a young woman holding him in his arms. Jesse holds a huge trophy in his arms and his smile is huge. The woman has a matching grin on her face.

(who is that? they look so happy)

Bay's snapped back into reality by the booming voice coming from downstairs. "You alright up there? I told you, the windows don't budge. I've tried."

The Kennish family was wealthy, that was certain. Her father was John Kennish, MVP, after all. They had nice things and an even nicer house. But this house was like nothing she had ever seen in person before. Floor to ceiling windows, winding staircases, tons of rooms, lots of open space...

(it's like an mtv cribs episode in here)

The Magnabosco family was an oddity in Mission Hills. They moved into the neighborhood four years ago and kept to themselves. Rumors spread quickly around small towns, and Mission Hills was no exception. The family rarely left the house for social gatherings and society events, so it was natural for the neighbors to talk.

(they're drug dealers! they're nudists! they're murderers!)

The Magnabosco's were no doubt rich – everyone in the neighborhood was. But the big iron fence surrounding their property made it difficult to dig up dirt about them, so naturally, people made up stories.

Jesse came to Buckner for the first time in seventh grade. He was an instant target of bullies and assholes. They tormented him for his small stature and oversized glasses. The fact that these same kids' parents' favorite subject was the "odd" Magnabosco family didn't help matters. Bay learned early on that Jesse was a zero – talking to him would be social suicide.

But after the events of the night before, Bay saw the brunet boy in a new light. He wasn't strange, or weird, or dorky...

(okay, maybe he was a little dorky)

...but he was friendly and caring. And if her suspicions were correct and he didn't in fact take advantage of her drunken behavior the night prior, he was also a gentleman.

(fancy that)

"There she is!" Jesse says as Bay emerges from the staircase. "You clean up nice. How's the hangover?" In her embarrassment she had forgotten all about her throbbing headache.

"And that, Missy, is why we don't drink alcohol handed to us in a red plastic cup from the kid that bums cigarettes off of the janitor," he said, handing her a plate and a glass of water. "Eat that. Fast food burritos and water doped with Advil. The Hangover Special."

Bay smiles. "'The Hangover Special?' You do this often?"

His eyes darken and his smile begins to fade.

(sensitive subject?)

"No," he says in a low voice, "No, I don't." He looks up and she is taken by his eyes. She thinks back to the night before and realizes that it wasn't just the alcohol – he _is_ gorgeous.

"...so I saw your hockey trophies in your room," she says, "I didn't know you played."

His smile begins to reappear. "You never cared enough."

(ouch)

She can't blame him, because he's entirely right. She avoided him like plague in the hallways, social suicide and all that. But here she is, sitting in his kitchen, eating his food and owing him big time.

"Look, it's all good," he says, taking a seat at the table next to her. "I get it. You're popular and I'm...well, not. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to solve the mystery of why Jesse Magnabosco never talked to Bay Kennish. Or, you know, the other way around."

Bay continues to pick at her burrito, and she realizes that he was right – this is helping. "So...you said you were going to clear up some of my questions?"

"Oh, yeah," Jesse says. "First of all, no, we didn't sleep together. Don't worry. You kissed me and I pushed you away."

Bay almost chokes on her burrito.

(in what world does a 16-year-old boy turn down meaningless sex?)

"I didn't want it to happen like that and you were piss drunk. I tried to do the right thing."

The room is silent for a few moments, and Bay finishes her food. She looks over at him, hoping she doesn't look like she was just in a car accident.

"...thank you. Really," she says, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Jesse says, taking her plate away and tossing them into the sink. "...well we should probably get going. Your parents are probably out of their mind by now."

(shit i hadn't thought about them)

"Oh my gosh, you're right," Bay says, picking up her purse and pulling on her heels. They walk out of the kitchen and through the foyer. It isn't a short walk from here to his room. She thinks about how he probably had to carry her through the house. It would have been easy for him to have just dropped her off on the couch in the living room, or hell, left her in the car with the windows cracked.

(ugh why does he have to be so nice)

They pass a mirror on their way out, and Bay catches a glimpse of them leaving. Dress clothes look ten times as ridiculous when you're wearing them in broad daylight.


End file.
